


Day Twelve: Making Out (AKA Alec Gets an Eyeful and A Happy at the Same Time)

by a_xmasmurder



Series: 30 Days of OTP: Bond/Q [12]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond - All Media Types, Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, A Roomba makes an appearance, Gen, Kissing, M/M, Post-mission stress, Reports are dumb, Tinker!Q
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-15
Updated: 2013-05-15
Packaged: 2017-12-11 22:47:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/804110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_xmasmurder/pseuds/a_xmasmurder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alec is stressed out, Q is busy, and Bond is back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day Twelve: Making Out (AKA Alec Gets an Eyeful and A Happy at the Same Time)

**Author's Note:**

> This one was pulling teeth a bit. Mother Nature sucks balls, and it's actually harder than I thought to write a make-out scene in this way. *shrugs*

_3:36 am on a Tuesday morning shouldn’t exist. It really shouldn’t._ Alec stretched in his chair, startling a couple of the night workers - a couple accountants and some random technicians from TSS, no one actually that important - and rocked his head to pop it back into place. The mission report sat half-finished in the word processor, the cursor blinking at him in spite. His head dropped back against the backrest, and the muted pattern on the ceiling panels swirled in front of his scratchy eyes. Stupid fucking reports, and stupid fucking...everything. _Wonder if they will kick me out of the shooting range at this time? Only one way to find out_. He shoved to his feet, startling the workers again. _Oh, whatever._ He grabbed his suit coat and walked out of the office block.

The halls were quiet, lacking the sort of busy hum that daytime brings with it. Now, it was just him, his thoughts, and the cleaning crew that had almost as high a security clearance as he did. And boy, did he not want to be with his thoughts right now. All they did was depress him and piss him off. Besides, it wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t. He couldn’t stop the boat from getting away from the harbour and save the kid at the same time. _Nuclear fallout versus one little boy. Choices. Fuck choices. Fucking choices, every fucking time.This is why I went off the grid in the first fucking place, damn it. Should have stayed there. Why did I let myself come back to this fucking...NO. Stop it, stop thinking about it, don’t fucking think about shit. Think of pandas. Think of drinking with Bill and dancing with Eve and Q with his fucking robot - soon to be plural - and his damned computers, and think of James motherfucking Bond, your best friend. Think of happy things, not missions gone bad, you idiot._ He sighed and decided not to punch the wall next to him. It was a hard decision. Three floors down, the armoury and the shooting range awaited him, old friends who never let him down. He contemplated the elevator for all of two seconds before turning towards the stairwell. _May as well time myself to see how long it takes to get down three flights of stairs at full speed._ He jogged back to the start of the lobby area, catching the attention of the bald janitor mopping a spot of tile. Alec prodded his watch a bit, set the stopwatch, and counted down in his head. At one, he surged forward and slammed into the hip-height push bar on the door, knocking it wide open.

Behind him, the old man shook his head and muttered, “Damned kids these days.”

********   
  
  
  
  


_Less than thirty seconds, even with tripping and slamming into that wall. Which, by the way, ow?_ Alec rubbed the really sore and probably contused spot on his shoulder and put his clothing back to rights before stepping away from the swinging door. He smirked at the poor woman he’d scared the ever-living shit out of when he’d rolled through the door, gun drawn and grin fierce. “Good evening, miss.”

“Uh...g-good evening?”

“Just checking the security of the building. You know, since the attack. The Director is sort of paranoid about that sort of thing. Carry on, please.” He winked and walked past, leaving her gaping in his wake. He didn’t dare look back to see if she had recovered enough to actually call security. He didn’t feel like dealing with them tonight...this morning...whatever, too fucking early. He wanted to shoot something, and that something wasn’t going to be anyone in his way. He stopped in front of Armoury and turned the handle.

“Son of a bitch.” It was locked. Why was it locked? Who locked it? Who cares? He wants in, and he will get in, damn it! He pulled out his lock-picking kit, dropped to one knee and got to work...then dropped his head against the door.

“I’m a fucking idiot.”

He stood back up and pulled out his ID card, sliding it through the brand new scanner that Q had installed the day before. It beeped unhappily at him and blinked red.

“Nooooo, you don’t do that. You are to let. Me. In.” He cocked his head. “Unless you want me to shoot you. I could do that.” He slid his card again.

 **Beeeeeeeep.** Frowny face. Red blinks. “Damn you.” Slide.

 **Beeeeeeeep.** Frowny face. Red blinks. “God damn it.” Sliiiiiide.

 **Beeeeeeeep.** Frowny face. Red blinks. “Fucking piece of shit -” SLIDE!

 ** _Beep!_** Happy face! Green blinks! Click! Yay! “Thank you.”

Alec turned the handle and pushed the door open, only to be met with lights on. His brows slid down in confusion. _Who else was here at oh dark hundred? And in the armoury, no less!_ Then he heard what sounded like metal music coming from further into the room, drowning out any softer noises that could be made. That ruled out any of the Double Os he could have ran into. He moved forward, careful to keep his steps quiet. He wasn’t going to startle the technician who was most likely trying to finish a project for Q before he got mad at them. Even though the thought _was_ entertaining. He edged around the corner, and didn’t see anyone immediately - until Disturbed started thumping through the speakers attached to an iPod, and Q himself backed out of a shelving unit, carrying a...

 _What the hell was that?_ Alec moved back against the wall, hiding his profile. _Wait. What that hell am I doing? Q is friend. Friend good. Can show self to friend. Friend not bad._ He chuckled at his behaviour and leaned out again, this time to shout a greeting to Q...and ducked back when he saw James slink out of the shadows. _AGAIN with the ducking and hiding from friends. Friends, Alec. They will be happy to see you...wait. Wasn’t James on a mission not two hours ago? No. He was on a plane that was going to land at one at Heathrow. It’s going on four now. Has he even been to Medical yet?_ He rolled his eyes and went to reveal himself. A clang and a short shout of distress made him freeze again.

“Jesus, James, you scared me! I could have been holding something pointy, and then where would we be?”

“We’d be in Medical, because you are a quick little bastard and I’m still keyed up.”

A huff. “Have you even _been_ to Medical?”

Silence. The rustle of a suit coat hitting a workbench.

“Did you even walk past the department?”

“Not really. Shut up.”

“Bond, I’m in the middle of - “

“Making an attack Roomba. Kiss me.”

“I am no-mmmpht!.... _mmmmmm._...”

 _Oh my God, you two lovebirds.._..Alec poked his head around the corner again and smiled. James had Q pushed up against a rack, hands dug into the hacker’s ridiculous mop of hair, hair he and Eve couldn’t help but run their own hands through during that epic drunk-fest. Alec kept catching bits and pieces of the action: glasses pushed askew, tie hung loosely on a sturdy neck, cardigan discarded to the floor, Roomba vacuum robot lying upside down on the worktop. Fine silk shirt - stained with blood again - unbuttoned and pushed off broad shoulders, a leather belt slipping loose from tan trousers and thrown off beneath a rack, a groan as lips met collarbone and teeth _bit_...

Alec pressed his back up against the wall and let out a groan of his own. _God damn it, I need to go get laid. I really need to go out and find some fit bird and just fuck her. Except it’s probably almost dawn. On a fucking Tuesday. And I have a report to do and targets to shoot and.._. His monologue was interrupted by a sharp shout and a crash that galvanized him into motion. He finally cleared the corner completely and was confronted again with the sight of two of his best friends having it off, only now all of Q’s things were shoved onto the floor and the skinny man was now on the table, leaning back on his elbows as James leaned over him and kissed him breathless. Q’s legs were up around James’s hips, locking him into his position, and the agent’s hands ran restlessly over Q’s chest, plucking at buttons and pulling at lapels. Alec could damn near _feel_ those fingers scratching through the three-day growth of dark hair on Q’s face, and that was a weird feeling because _James Bond is my friend, not my lover, not ever, I'd kill the son of a bitch first, damn it._ He heard the deep growl from James as the hacker pulled him closer to roll his hips against - _I really shouldn’t be watching this. I can not be watching James doing this._ But he stayed where he was, rooted to the spot and afraid to move lest he distract them or alert them to his presence. And wouldn’t that just be grand. They finally broke for air, and Alec finally breathed.

“As I was saying before you started sucking off my tongue” Q nipped the end of Bond’s nose - Alec inwardly slapped his forehead and died laughing - “ I am in the middle of designing a platform for mine-detecting robots using hovercraft technology. That is decidedly _not_  an attack Roomba.” He dragged his hands up James’s scarred chest and neck to grip at the back of his head. “Do your research, 007.”

“How can I do research when I’m too busy staring at your arse, hmm?” James bent his head down and bit the tendon on the side of Q’s neck. The sound from the hacker could only classified as a squeak, though it was a happy little squeak. "Besides, be honest. You want to make little hovercraft Roombas that can fire mini-missiles and lasers." He brushed his lips over Q's ear, and Alec wanted to bang his head against a brick wall, _god damn that complete prick!_ "You want to build a AI control, make them connected to it, create a hive mind, make an army of minions. That's sexy. I like it."

“James, you bastard, how is that sexy? Also, you are bleeding on my leg.”

“You are the one with your legs wrapped around my sides.” James shrugged and pulled away from Q. To Alec, it looked very reluctant. James pulled the white fabric away from a nasty looking knife wound - nasty in that it looked like he, once again, had done his own sewing job. With dental floss. Again. Q hissed in discomfort - a sympathy motion, Alec recognized, since the man had seen Bond’s _thigh bone_ before and hadn’t even flinched when staunching the blood - and looked up at the agent with an _expression_ on his face. That expression caused something in James to change. To loosen. Thaw. Weaken. Alec watched as the shell that had been present ever since...well, ever since...he watched as that shell cracked a little. Bond’s lips pressed together, his eyes sparkled, and he swallowed. The smile that spread across his face finally reached his eyes, scrunching the weathered skin there. Seeing that, and seeing how James’s large hand smoothed over Q’s thinner hand and pressed on the skin covering delicate bone and tendon - Alec could feel something break in himself, too.

James was going to be alright. He was going to be just fine. Thank God.

He turned to leave, the horrid mood he’d been in before lightened enough that he could probably drive home without putting his car into the Thames deliberately -

“Alec, could you go to Medical and grab one of their suture kits, please? I need to do this for James, since he is incapable of taking care of himself -”

“Hey, I did a good job, considering I was in the middle of Russia with no backup.”

“You could have called.”

“And what? What are you supposed to do?”

Alec sighed and shook his head. “You two fight like an old married couple, damn it.” He looked back at them, and James had one hand fisted in Q’s hair again, and the other was snaking its way into his trousers. Q was humming and pressing both of his hands into James’s shoulders. “And this is my cue to leave you two horny teenagers to your own devices. I’ll be back in twenty minutes. Do not rip those stitches out, James. And Q, don’t set anything on fire. God, sometimes I feel like a babysitter.” He walked back out the door, making sure the lock armed itself before walking down the hall towards Medical, whistling and feeling rather good about the whole thing.


End file.
